


The Boxer

by Zetal (Rodinia)



Series: Yuri on Ice Music Week [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Boxer Otabek, Gen, Homesickness, JJ's Family, Leo's Family - Freeform, Major Injury to a Minor Character, Musician Otabek, Rebel Otabek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 18:25:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11995446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodinia/pseuds/Zetal
Summary: "Yuri Plisetsky had the eyes of a soldier."Several times Otabek thought of that moment between when it happened and when he met Yuri again.





	The Boxer

**Author's Note:**

> Written for YoI Music Week Day 1 - The 60s
> 
> Song: ["The Boxer"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l3LFML_pxlY) by Simon & Garfunkel (1969)

At thirteen, Otabek had no business being on his own. His parents loved him, he didn’t doubt that, his brother and sisters were going to miss him more than they were willing to let on, and the rest of his family were distraught about his being sent off. The problem was that he had to go, if he was going to make it anywhere with his dreams.

His dreams changed when he stared into those judgmental green eyes. Yuri Plisetsky was easily the most talented dancer in the class, but that’s not what pierced Otabek’s soul. The boy was staring at him with absolutely no sympathy or pity, his eyes clearly saying “Get up, you idiot, don’t you dare give up like a weakling.” How Yuri knew he’d been thinking of quitting and going home, he didn’t know, but there was no way he was going to disappoint the soldier hiding behind the beauty of an angel.

 

Russia, at least, had been reasonably close to home. Now Otabek was in America. Detroit got cold in January. Almaty got cold, too, but there, he had his family. All he could think about sometimes was going home. He missed it a lot.

His host family, the de la Iglesias, helped as much as they could. Neiba, the mom, had immigrated from Mexico when she was a teenager, so she understood Otabek’s struggle to learn English and adapt to the culture and fit in at school. Leo was only a year older than him, and had a similar dream of skating for his country in the Olympics, bring home glory. They became friends, and Leo introduced him to music. Otabek was okay with instruments, at least according to Leo, but he discovered that he was good at taking music apart and rebuilding it better. Leo called it mixing and suggested he take up DJing. He was too young to play most clubs, but he figured it was like his first few years of skating – building up the skills and taking what few gigs you could get for the experience.

Even with Neiba and Leo and his new hobby, as his fifteenth birthday approached, Otabek had one of those moments where he just wanted to be _home_. He was walking home from practice, where not a single thing had gone right in skating, and the new kid at the rink had made fun of him for stiffness. JJ was obnoxious, Leo agreed. Leo had choir practice for school, though, so he couldn’t stay to walk home with Otabek. It was freezing, and his leather jacket didn’t really do enough to keep him warm. At home in Almaty, his older sister was teaching their youngest sister to cook, and the house would be warm from that.

He’d just about made up his mind to tell his coach he wanted to go home when a whistle made him look up, and a girl waved at him. “Hey there. You look like you could use some company, cutie.”

Otabek stared. The girl was probably pretty, and likely friendly enough, but he wasn’t seeing her. Her eyes just happened to be the same shade of green as Yuri’s, and all he could see was that soldier staring back at him. “Don’t you dare give up like a weakling.” He could do this. He had to, if he wanted to be good enough to reach his dreams. He adjusted the straps of his backpack and took off jogging.

 

After that bad first impression, Otabek was surprised at just how good a friend JJ became. When JJ went back to Canada, Otabek made the difficult decision to go with him. The LeRoys weren’t going to be the de la Iglesias, but he and Celestino Cialdini agreed that he would do better with a different coach, and Alain LeRoy thought he could help Otabek grow.

In Canada, Otabek’s DJing got him in with a group of kids that the LeRoys didn’t approve of. They smoked, they drank, they did drugs, they partied, they stayed out too late and played their music too loud and were no kind of influence they wanted for their boys. Otabek didn’t care. They’d let him play his music, Pierre taught him to drive a motorcycle, and he had the sense not to let them talk him into drugs. Illegal drugs would torpedo his career faster than anything. Most skaters drank to some extent, but not in the junior circuit, and Otabek wasn’t in a hurry to start. Smoking would damage his lungs, and he needed every edge he could get; he couldn’t afford to shoot himself in the foot like that.

They also got him into boxing. Finally, Otabek had found something that he was good at that wasn’t skating. He took to boxing easily, and it made him feel so much better about himself. He was mostly able to hide the bruises from training, and what he couldn’t hide he could blame on falling at practice, but after his first match, he realized there was no hiding the black eye and split lip from the LeRoys.

They took one look at him trying to sneak in and sat him down. “Otabek, you’re sixteen years old, about to make your senior debut. We’ve said over and over again that that crowd you run with is bad for you, and now here you are getting into fights. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“It’s not really fights. No one’s going to get seriously hurt. We’re just boxing, with gloves, and I won’t box too close to a competition. I promise.”

The LeRoys looked at each other. “Do you have trainers? Referees? Coaches? Any supervision at all?”

“Well… no,” Otabek was forced to admit. His next defense – how hard can a bunch of teenagers hit – died before he could even say anything.

Alain nodded and put on a stern face. “Then here are your choices, Otabek. You can tell your friends you won’t be participating in any more matches and stick to it, you can stop seeing them at all, or you can find yourself a new coach.”

“I’m not going to get hurt!” Otabek shouted. “You’re not my parents.”

“No, we’re not. We have the ability to kick you out,” Nathalie said, standing beside Alain with her arms crossed. “We can send you home to Almaty. Is that what you want?”

“Yes! That’s what I want! My parents trust me. I’m out of here.” Otabek grabbed his bag and stormed out, heading for Pierre’s house.

Pierre wasn’t there, and neither was any of his family. Otabek headed for Luc’s instead. Luc opened the door and hugged Otabek tightly. “You heard, huh?”

“Heard what?”

“Pierre and Tommy were boxing, and Tommy knocked Pierre out – except Pierre wouldn’t wake up. They called 911. Pierre’s at the hospital now. Tommy texted that he woke up eventually, but his head’s pretty messed up still, and the doctors are saying it could be weeks before he’s okay.” Luc broke down in tears. “I can’t stop thinking… what if it had been you? What if I’d hurt you like this, and you weren’t okay in time for your big competition in October?”

Otabek sat down hard beside Luc. No wonder no one had been home at Pierre’s. Alain and Nathalie had been right. “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t, and I’m not gonna fight again. I’ll keep training with you guys, but if I step in the ring, it’ll be as a ref.”

“I don’t think we’re gonna keep doing matches, Beks. You can tell those worrywart coaches that.”

“They were right about how dangerous boxing could be. How’s Tommy?”

“I dunno. He’s still at the hospital, he’s gotta be feeling wrecked about this.”

Otabek stayed for an hour, keeping Luc company. As he was heading home, he remembered he’d told the LeRoys to send him home. Would they actually do it? If he apologized and told them the boxing club was breaking up, would they let him change his mind and stay? Was it worth trying?

Once again, he thought of the soldier’s eyes and their challenge. “Don’t you dare give up like a weakling.” He walked into the house, shoulders square, set down his bag, and found Alain and Nathalie. “I was wrong. You’re right. Boxing is dangerous. If you’ll let me change my mind, I promise. No more. I’m not going to stop seeing my friends, but I’ll think harder about what I do with them.”

 

The next time he saw the soldier’s eyes, they were staring at him from a much older face. The words now were very different. “What’s with you, asshole?”

Otabek walked away without a word. This was not auspicious, but he wasn’t going to give up hope just yet. Yuri Plisetsky was prickly, angry… and fifteen. Now wasn’t a good time. Yuri and JJ’s feud was one of the hottest topics among skaters this season, behind Yuuri and Viktor’s scandalous relationship.

The next opportunity was better. Yuri needed help, which Otabek could provide. He took Yuri to Park Guell, where they talked as the sun set. Yuri had forgotten him. Really, Otabek couldn’t say he was surprised. He was also surprised to hear how Otabek saw him. Again, Otabek wasn’t surprised. All season, people had been talking about the angel and the fairy and the kitten and the prima ballerina and JJ had made it worse with his teasing.

Otabek didn’t need the soldier to remind him not to give up on this dream. He held out a hand. “Are you going to become friends with me or not?”

It took a beat before Yuri took the hand. “Friends.”


End file.
